Warmer
by wjobsessed
Summary: I decided to add an epilogue to this story. Hope you like it.
1. Chapter 1

**I've had this in my head for some time. It's nice to get it down here. I hope you like it.**

**Bolivia, of course. Unbetaed. All mistakes are mine. I own nothing to do with Fringe. I just play with the characters.**

**Peter and Olivia go out on a necessary retrieval mission on a cold, January night.**

Warmer

"You know what they say, right? Everything west of Route 128 is farmland," Peter Bishop said giving Olivia Dunham a sideways glance, his eyes sparkling.

Olivia looked over at Peter in her passenger seat, smirking. "Yeah, but we both know that's not true, don't we."

"Yes," he said laughing. Peter loved when she looked at him like that, like she found his thoughts exasperating. He loved messing with her. "So how much further?"

"The turn-off's right down this road according to the GPS.

Peter shook his head, and took another sip of his coffee. He hoped this was a very quick search and find. Looking at his watch, Peter was surprised to find it was already 11:04PM. It was quite cold even in the FBI-issued SUV. Peter thought about his nice new warm bed in he and his father's house in Cambridge. And not for the first time tonight, he found himself wondering if he'd ever get to share that bed with Olivia any time soon. He shot her a quick look, glad she couldn't read his thoughts at the moment. He sighed heavily and brought the coffee to his lips.

Peter's heavy sigh drew Olivia's attention, and she looked over at the man sitting next to her. She thought she saw fatigue mixed in with his boyish good looks, but it was hard to tell in the faint light.

Olivia wondered if he had had any nightmares like the ones he told her about months ago. It wouldn't have surprised her a bit with all that they saw on a regular basis. She certainly had had her share over the years and she felt badly that Peter would have to go through that. After all, he had his hands full just dealing with Walter all the time.

Suddenly the low-lying green sign appeared to the right, welcoming them to Upton State Forest.

Olivia navigated the SUV onto the narrow, paved road.

"Any idea how far in we have to go?" Peter asked her, noting how much darker it was on the park's access road.

"Logistics said they weren't sure how far in those coordinates were but they guessed two to three miles."

* * *

"Nice night for a walk," Peter commented only half-sarcastically. In truth, walking in a quiet state forest with only Olivia Dunham by his side was certainly no bad thing. If he could have he would have changed it to an 11:09 PM walk in the summer instead of in the middle of January. With some wine and a blanket the thought was actually quite appealing.

"Peter?" A feminine voice roused him from his thoughts.

Peter turned his head to see Olivia staring at him, smiling. If he wasn't mistaken there was mischief in her eyes.

"What were you thinking about just now? It must have been pretty good. You didn't answer me." The high-efficiency spotlight she was carrying showed her eyes narrowed at him.

He was quick as ever with a response, and turned to look at her. "I was thinking how much I want to go to bed." _Whew! Good. Mostly correct. She needn't know the rest_, he thought to himself, heaving the heavy black evidence collection bag higher. Peter found it hard to get a good grip on the awkward thing while wearing a Gore-Tex glove.

Olivia looked at him skeptically. He had been acting a little weird on the ride out. _Preoccupied_, she said to herself.

"Well, hopefully this will be a quick retrieval and then I can get you back to Walter and your bed."

Olivia fished the hand-drawn, plastic-laminated map out of her pocket and checked the coordinates. "I think we only have another mile or so to go. Have any new Walter food stories to pass the time?"

Peter gave her a healthy laugh. "Well, now that you mention it..." And they kept walking into the dark, crunching leaves and twigs as they went.


	2. Chapter 2

**A big thank you to eveyone who has read, reviewed, and favorited/alerted this fic. That means alot to me.**

**Upton State Forest is a real place in Massachusetts, and there really is a Metro-West Serial Killer who's never been found to date.**

**Unbetaed again. Please forgive any mistakes. I don't own anything.**

**The killer has left something for Peter and Olivia, but not what they expected.**

Warmer-Chapter 2

They had walked more than two miles according to the GPS when Olivia stopped and held up the searchlight to study the map.

"According to wonderful Nate Wertheimer, the spot we're looking for is up ahead another mile-or less."

Peter Bishop set down the heavy black evidence case, welcoming a momentary break.

"Just so we're on the same page, what are we looking for again, exactly?" he questioned.

'It's hard to say. Something from him though. Each time it's been different. He claims to have murdered six women in the last six months in the greater Metro-West area. And after each victim was found he left a note in places close by describing some detail that the police were able to link to the most recent body. Last time it was a lock of hair in a cigar box."

"Charming," Peter quipped, rubbing his gloves on his pants legs trying to warm up a bit. "But the unidentifiable substance found on the last victim's body is why we got involved, correct?"

"Yes. That body was found two days ago in Westborough just off the 495 ramp. So I'm assuming whatever he wants us to find tonight is related to it. The only reason why we're out here so late is there was some kind of delay in us getting the map until a few hours ago."

Olivia was quiet for a moment, thinking. "A lot of people at the Bureau think this Wertheimer guy could be the 'Metro-West Serial Killer.'"

Peter looked over at her bathed in shadow from the searchlight. "They have something to connect him to all of _those_ murders too?"

"No, but the MO's similar." Olivia rubbed her arms with her gloves to warm up a little.

"He could be a copy cat."

"Yes, he could be. Let's get this over with. It's getting colder." Olivia started walking and focused the searchlight so she could see the GPS again. "Okay, just ahead of us. His map shows a big rock."

Peter picked up the evidence case thinking about how his feet were starting to get cold. They fell into a comfortable walking rhythm.

Olivia Dunham moved the searchlight away from the GPS so that it illuminated their path.

"Wait, Livia. I think I might see the big rock. Straight ahead." Peter took a few steps ahead of her eager to help.

All of a sudden there was a loud tearing noise and a male's scream. An unknown force threw Olivia to the ground. When she got to her senses she thought she heard Peter yelling to her and she crawled over to the searchlight that had landed near her on the ground.

Olivia flashed the light around but couldn't find Peter anywhere.

"Peter? Peter! Where are you Peter?!"


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm changing the rating folks, due to language. Thanks again to all of you who have given me feedback-it makes my day!**

**I don't own it. Unbetaed. You know the drill.**

**A forest and urgent medical problems don't mix well. Olivia does the best she can, under the circumstances.**

Warmer-Chapter 3

"Owwwww! Son-of-a-bitch!!"

Olivia Dunham was never so happy to hear swearing, more specifically, Peter Bishop swearing.

"Fuck!"

"Peter? Where are you, Peter?" Olivia focused the hand that held the searchlight towards a darkened area to her right that she didn't remember being there a minute ago. The light illuminated a very large hole, approximately two feet across. She got to her feet and carefully moved closer, careful to avoid the unstable edges.

Olivia shone the searchlight down the hole and saw Peter sprawled uncomfortably about 5 feet down.

He was rubbing a spot on his head and his feet looked unnaturally positioned. He tried to prop himself up on one elbow. Next to him on the floor of the hole was a rather large rock. Olivia then noticed that his lower leg closest to the rock was smeared with brown and red. _Shit_, she thought to herself.

"Livia," his voice was breathy like he was in pain. "It was a trap. He planned this."

'What's hurt besides your left leg, Peter?" She was almost afraid to ask.

Peter took a deep breath before he answered her. "Both my lower legs hurt pretty bad. And my head. I hit my head on something. Things are swimming a little." There was a pause, then, "I think that's it."

While he was talking, Olivia found the black leather evidence case on the other side of the hole. She frantically searched through it looking for rope. Luckily she found what she thought was a sufficient length and pulled it out hastily.

"Peter, I found some rope in the evidence case. I think if we work together you can get out from there."

She tried to make her voice sound more confident than she was feeling.

There was silence for a moment that unsettled her. "Peter?"

"Livia. I just found a sealed plastic bag under me. I must have fallen on top of it."

_So, the bastard really had left evidence. And a trap to hurt the people looking for it,_ she thought to herself. Olivia vowed in that moment to seek revenge on Nate Wertheimer, if she ever got her hands on him.

"OK, well shove it in your pocket or somewhere for now. I want to get you out of there. I'm going to throw you the end of the rope. Here it comes."

Olivia set the searchlight on the ground at an angle that illuminated as much of Peter and the hole as it could. She held on to one end of the rope and threw the rest into the hole trying to hit him with it.

The rope end landed on his chest. Peter wiped the tears from his eyes. The pain in his leg was intense but he didn't want her to see him like this. "I've got it. Hold on tight, Livia. I'm going to try to climb up."

Fortunately, there were things on the side of the hole for Peter to grip onto, but it was slow going.

He couldn't put any weight on his left leg and his right wasn't much better. He tried his best to shrug off the slightly disoriented feeling as he meticulously made his way up the side.

Olivia had taken her gloves off to get better leverage on the rope. She just hoped he was able to get out before her hands went numb.

About twenty long minutes later, Peter collapsed at the top edge of the hole, his lower body half still dangling. He lifted his eyes to lock onto hers. "It's good to see you again, Olivia Dunham." He tried somewhat unsuccessfully to give her a quirky smile. Olivia noted it looked more like a grimace.

It was just like Peter to make a joke of the whole thing. She gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes, worry was reflected in them but he couldn't see that in the low light.

"Here, let me help you." Olivia locked her hands in his, the symbolism not escaping her, and pulled back as hard as she could. She got him all the way out of the hole, and heard an other- worldly noise come out of his throat when his legs touched the solid ground.

"Let me look at you." Before he could answer she picked up the searchlight next to him and started with his feet and moved up, assessing as much as she could see. She carefully rolled up the bottom of his black jeans and rolled down the sock on his left foot. Despite the smeared blood and dirty she could see some swelling and what looked like a possible fracture. The good news was it hadn't pierced through the skin. Then she did the same with his right leg. There was some redness and a little swelling on that one but no indication of a fracture.

She moved up his body and was surprised when he didn't protest, which also scared her. Olivia unzipped Peter's warm jacket and grabbed his two shirts at the bottom and hoisted them as far up as she could looking for changes on his skin. There were none on his front but when she moved around towards his back she saw some bruising half way up. _Maybe cracked or broken ribs when he hit,_ she thought to herself.

Then she moved the light up to look at his face and head and she saw it on his face. The look of pain. She imagined his left leg hurt a lot more than he was letting on. Olivia got a tight feeling in her gut. _He's in pain. Peter's hurt, _she thought. She ran her hand over one of his cheeks and then all around his head. Peter closed his eyes and tried to focus on the pleasant sensation. As she ran her hand over the back of his head he grimaced. Olivia turned his head slightly and studied the area. There was a somewhat swollen area but no blood. She turned his head back so he could see her and lovingly replaced his shirts.

"Peter, you need to get to a hospital," Olivia told him trying to maintain calm in her voice. She didn't want to scare him but she knew he'd want her to be honest with him. "Let me see if I can get an ambulance out here." Before he had a chance to reply she dug her cell phone out of her pants pocket and picked up the searchlight so she could see. It showed no reception which didn't exactly surprise her as they were several miles into the forest. _Crap._

Olivia took a deep breath and walked with her phone and the light trying to see if changing her position would help her get a signal. It didn't.

Peter could see her frustrated movements and cursed that he was unable to help her. He watched as she moved further away from him hoping to get a signal. She was swimming a little in his vision and he noticed that he was just a little nauseous.

"Livia," he yelled as loudly as he could, making him more nauseous. "Go back to the SUV. I'll be OK here." Peter tried changing his position a little, trying to lessen the pain in his left left ankle area.

Olivia Dunham sprinted back to him. "I really don't want to leave you here, Peter." She kneeled down next to him, visibly upset at his suggestion, but knowing he was right.

Peter grabbed her hand trying to comfort her. He was impressed she was letting him see through her mask of control. He waited until she locked eyes with him. "It's OK, Livia. Go. I'll be fine."

She just strared into his eyes for a moment and squeezed his hand. Then she remembered something she had in her pants pocket. Letting go of his hand she fished out a prescription bottle from her pants, happy she had put it there.

"You'll need these for the pain. I carry them for my migraines. Fortunately for you I haven't had any lately." She removed two generic Fiorinal from the bottle and moved her fingers toward his mouth.

Peter opened his mouth and dry swallowed the two pills Olivia dropped on his tongue. "Thanks."

She nodded a response to him and rose to her feet. "I'm going to go call for an ambulance and then I'll be right back."

Olivia saw him nod and then close his eyes, waiting for any relief the narcotics could offer him. She turned and started her journey back towards the parking lot. Two minutes later she heard the growls.

By instinct her hand holding the searchlight popped up and she saw the eyes of three large, scraggly coyotes glaring at her. _God, I hate coyotes,_ she said to herself.

"GO! GO AWAY!" Olivia yelled at the three. The coyotes didn't move, blocking her path

With her hand on her service revolver she moved toward them. "I SAID GO!"

Slowly the coyotes moved in the opposite direction still snarling a little. Frustrated, Olivia Dunham headed back toward where Peter was lying. She couldn't leave him there defenseless with them so close by. _Guess it's time for Plan B, _she thought sadly.

Standing at Peter's still form the first thing Olivia did was assure herself he was still breathing. He was.

She leaned over and touched his cheek. "Peter, I'm going to have to drag you by your arms. There are coyotes out here and I'm not leaving you alone."

There was no answer from him. It seemed to quick to her for the narcotics to be working. _A concussion, maybe? _she thought to herself. Olivia wiped silent tears from her eyes, and took a deep breath.

This was going to take awhile. She hoped that even moving him a little closer to the parking lot would reward them with a cell signal. Olivia grabbed both his wrists in hers and pulled his dead weight.

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Again, I want to thank everyone who took the time to review the last chapter. And a big thank you to all of you who have alerted and favorited this story. That makes my day!**

**Unbetaed, and you know I don't own Fringe.**

**Olivia presses on until she can move no more.**

Warmer-Chapter 4

As soon as they started moving Peter started moaning, and Olivia guessed it was from his badly injured leg and foot making contact with the ground. She stopped instantly and realized that she needed to splint his left leg for support.

Reluctant to take the time, but not want to cause him any further discomfort she let go of his wrists and picked up the searchlight, looking for suitable twigs for the job. Fairly quickly she found two wide ones and ran back over to him. Without hesitation, Olivia reached up under her coat and ripped a wide strip of fabric from the bottom of her white work blouse. She set to work quickly securing the twigs and wrapping the cloth firmly around them. Then she ripped the end of then cloth in half and made a decent knot. Finding her splint adequate she put her gloves back on. It wouldn't do either of them any good if she couldn't feel her hands. Olivia set the lit searchlight on Peter's stomach and resumed dragging him in the direction of the parking lot.

Olivia knew it wasn't protocol to leave the FBI's evidence case in the forest_, but Peter's h_ealth and well-being came first. _Screw protocol,_ she thought to herself. Using the adrenaline rush she was experiencing to her advantage she dragged Peter on and on, stopping every once in awhile to get a breath. Her mind wandered as they moved onward, and she thought sadly about how relatively normal their lives had been just a few short hours ago. She also thought about how worried Walter must be that Peter wasn't home yet, _unless he's already asleep,_ she thought. That thought was more more appealing and she clung to it.

She realized suddenly despite the gravity of the situation that there were things for which she should be thankful. It was a clear night-no snow and no rain to hasten hypothermia. It was just under freezing and not in the single digits like it was just two days prior. And there was no brutal winter wind to make everything more difficult. And in a sad way Olivia was grateful Peter was not awake, as he would have surely protested what she was doing. But she was very worried about his physical state. Olivia remembered from her FBI first aid training that people with concussions are usually woken up and checked at hourly intervals to make sure they're OK and that there's no evidence of further brain swelling. She knew she wasn't doing that, was more concerned with getting him to safety.

The growing guilt made Olivia stop and turn the searchlight so it fully illuminated Peter's face.

She knelt by him on the hard ground. _At least he doesn't look like he's in pain right now, _Olivia thought to herself. She was reluctant to wake him but knew she probably should. Taking a breath she shook his shoulder.

"Peter! Peter wake up! I need you to wake up and look at me!" Olivia was practically shouting at him nervously.

Peter Bishop moaned and after what seemed like forever he opened his glassy eyes. The questions Olivia needed to ask popped into her mind.

"What month is this, Peter?"

"Wha? It's January, Livia," he said his words slightly slurred.

She pressed on. "What year is it?"

He looked around clearly dazed. "Two thousand ten." Then Peter became quiet again.

Olivia let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. She'd gotten what she needed.

"OK. Listen Peter. I'm worried you may have a concussion. Your words are a little slurred but it could be because of the Fiorinal I gave you. I need you to try to stay awake. Can you do that Peter? Can you please try to stay awake? Then we don't have to worry about you slipping into unconsciousness.

I'm going to keep us moving towards the parking lot. Do you understand what I'm telling you? If you do, shake your head. OK?"

There was a slight delay and then a groggy Peter Bishop shook his head slightly.

"Good. Now rest but don't go into a deep sleep. Please." She tried hard not to choke up on the last word. She distracted herself by checking her phone for a signal, but there still was none. Feeling a bit less guilty Olivia grabbed his wrists again and resumed her pulling.

Olivia Dunham repeated the cycle of alternately dragging and stopping for as long as she physically could, realizing that each foot closer to the SUV was a foot closer to a cell signal and medical help for her partner. Thinking of all the times Peter Bishop had watched her back in the last year or so they had worked together-either beating up or killing a foe-kept her body moving.

Finally Olivia could feel the lactic acid building up in her spent muscles and she knew she had to take a serious break. According to the GPS she had hauled Peter a mile and three quarters. Her cell phone told her it had taken two hours. But there was still no signal. She debated leaving him alone and traveling the other mile or so by herself, but the pain in her body halted the thought.

Running on instinct Olivia started to gather all the twigs and branches she could to build a fire. She was pretty sure there was a pack of matches in the evidence case she'd left behind. The thought of having to walk back to get them and then return was not appealing, but neither was the thought of getting cold.

She made a moderately-sized pile of flammables and then had a thought. Olivia dove into each of Peter's coat pockets. In the second one she found a lighter, and made a mental note to ask him about it later. Whether he was smoking or not and _what_ he was smoking held no relevance at the moment.

Olivia flicked the lighter and was rewarded with a healthy flame. _Finally, a break,_ she thought.

She held it against the pile of twigs and leaves and it quickly ignited. Without any conscious thought Olivia snuggled up to Peter trying to maximize their combined body heat, and pulled her service revolver from its holster and held it in her hand. She would just rest until she felt like she could drag him some more. And she would be ready if the coyotes decided to visit again. Olivia focused on the snaps and crackles of the burning debris, and tried to command her burning muscles to relax.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for not posting sooner. I had a family emergency but things are better now.**

**Thanks again to all who have reviewed and/or favorited this story. I have decided it takes place after "A Bishop Revival" but before "Jacksonville," so if you need an escape from post-Jacksonville you've come to the right place. :)**

**I do not own Fringe, but I enjoy playing with it. All mistakes are mine.**

**Olivia starts talking to try to keep Peter from further brain damage**

Warmer-chapter 5

At first she became aware of the sounds. Snapping and crackling. Sounds that accompany a fire.

With that thought Olivia Dunham's eyes popped open. It took her a minute to realize where she was and what had transpired. She lifted her upper body a few inches and was surprised to see her arms enveloping a sleeping Peter Bishop. Then it all came tumbling back into her brain. With a gasp she dropped her gun from her gloved hand and found and turned on the searchlight. Olivia hurriedly shuffled through her coat pocket for her cell phone. Holding it up she saw the time was 2:30AM.

She was very surprised she had slept, but remembering the exertion she'd endured dragging Peter, and the combination of their bodily warmth and the noises from the fire she supposed it was possible.

Olivia shifted her gaze towards Peter and felt her heart speed up. He didn't look totally at peace but he didn't look like he was in pain either. Then she remembered all the details. Him falling into Werthheimer's trap and hurting his legs. The bruises on his back and the lump on his head. At that last thought she gasped out loud and realized she hadn't assessed his head injury for awhile. What if he had severe head trauma? It would be all her fault for not keeping her eye on him.

She picked up the searchlight and held it at an angle that fully illuminated his face. It was then that Olivia realized how sore her body was from dragging him 1 ¾ miles. She ignored the searing pain and began her assessment. Reaching a gloved hand to touch his face she gently called his name.

"Peter? Peter! Can you here me? It's Olivia." There was no response and she felt the acid churn in her stoamch. She was determined to get a response from him.

Changing her volume to a shout she tried again, shaking his shoulder. "Peter! Wake up. It's Olivia.

I need you to wake up!" Her voice audibly shook on the last six words. She'd lost John, and Charlie, but she was not going to lose the man lying in front of her. No way in hell, she thought to herself.

Olivia set the searchlight down, removed her gloves and threw them to the ground.

"Peter, you absolutely must wake up and talk to me right now!" she yelled while slapping his face.

There was a grimace. And then a moan. Then slowly Peter moved his left arm and up and touched where she'd slapped him.

Olivia gave a relieved sigh and before she knew what was happening her hands were on his face.

"I'm sorry I had to slap you, Peter, but I had to wake you up. To see how you are doing." His face was somewhat warm in her bare hands, and she could feel the stubble from his cheeks on her skin. It felt natural to have her hands there. For a moment she forgot what she was doing and just stared at him, still with his eyes closed.

"Can you open your eyes for me, Peter?"

After what seemed like forever, he opened one eye and then the other. "Livia..." came in a whisper from his mouth.

Hearing her name coming in a whisper from his mouth she couldn't control herself any longer.

"Yes, it's me," she replied, the sobs starting. "I'm so, so sorry you are hurt Peter. I dragged you as far as I could and...when I get some power back in my arms and legs I'll drag you the rest of the way." She stared into glassy green/blue eyes, less focused than usual, which made the tears come even more. Olivia couldn't stop the flow of tears down her face and onto his clothes.

"I promise I'll get you out of here. I promise, Peter. Please don't leave me." She realized she sounded like a needy child but really didn't care.

Slowly Peter's left hand moved and covered one of hers on his face.

'Talk to me, Livia. Keep talking," he said in a slurred whisper, and closed his eyes.

She was so happy to hear his words, meaning, of course, that he was trying hard to hold on to consciousness. But she couldn't hold herself up any more. So she lay down with her mouth close to his ear, and started talking, determined to keep talking until she could get up and drag him the rest of the way to the parking lot. Olivia put her hands in her pockets and curled into Peter's side, trying to decide what to say to him to try to keep him awake.

She laughed a little. "I don't really know where to start, Peter. But I'll try. You know some things about me, and I know some things about you-well, not too many actually. Here it goes..."

And so Olivia lay tucked into Peter's side while the dying fire crackled. She talked slowly and uncomfortably at first, about her parents, and her sister Rachel and her niece Ella, telling Peter what she remembered about her childhood. Then as the words came more easily, she told him about her school experiences, and college experiences at Northwestern University.

As time crawled by she told him about going into the police force and how difficult it was to be a woman there. She talked about going into the Bureau and their rigorous training, about meeting Charlie and John there. She talked about how she had truly loved John Scott and how weird it was that she was able to tell Peter about it without feeling uncomfortable, like she had finally come to peace with it. She talked about how she wanted to believe he had died a good guy but she still had her doubts whenever she thought about that horrible car chase, when her partner and lover tried to run her off the road, and how much that hurt. She talked about how Broyles had pushed her to get involved with the Fringe Division, and how it was impossible for her to not get further involved. She told him about how Nina Sharp had offered her a job at Massive Dynamic, and how she thought it was weird that Nina actually thought she would drop her FBI position and work there.

Olivia took a breath and was silent for a bit, wishing she had a bottle of water. She was discomforted yet again by the silent man next to her, and searched her mind for what to talk about next. Olivia vowed that as soon as she could push herself up and make her legs move that she would take off for any point in the direction of the parking lot that would deliver up a healthy cell signal. Unfortunately it wasn't going to happen that minute, and she accepted that. Just a little bit longer, she told herself.

She started talking again, her throat dry, telling him about her first impression of him from the FBI archives, and their meeting in Iraq from her point of view. Swallowing hard, she told him she hadn't expected someone with an IQ of 190 to be so good-looking. Olivia told him how impressed she had been with his change in attitude once Walter was in his custody, and how pleased she was that the four of them functioned so well in the lab.

Olivia thanked him for always being there looking out for her, and saving her hide numerous times.

She thanked him for being concerned about her when she was abducted and how scared she had been.

Increduously she heard herself telling him how much she enjoyed when he dared her to drink more at the bar in Cambridge during the Jones' case, and how happy she was that he didn't let her go into the portal at the lake.

She also told him how scared she had been when Kyle had taken him hostage and she had heard the shot in the Maryland house, thinking maybe he had been hurt or worse. And also how upset she gotten when she saw Peter spit out the genetically-mutated hookworm in Chinatown.

But Olivia spent the most time telling Peter how upset and worried she'd been about him when he'd gotten the infected man's blood on him at Vistal Petrol, how she was shaking and worried. She told Peter she regretted not confiding in him and telling him she was scared, how she wanted to and was considering it when the receptionist showed up. She admitted to him that it was the hardest thing she'd ever done to not let him out of that building despite his pleas. How she had no regrets going back in to turn on the air circulation so Fentanyl could be pumped in and save time and his life and those of the others. As the tears started to escape again she told him how frightened she'd been when he attacked her in the parking garage, how despite all her experience in law enforcement and her ability to react to dangerous situations she absolutely could not shoot him. Olivia admitted to him then and there that the moment he put his foot on her arm holding her gun, and lifted it in his hand pointing it at her was the most frightening moment of her life. She quieted then, letting the sobs run their course.

Olivia resumed her confessions then, more in control, and told him how relieved she was to see him on the stretcher in the tent looking at her, exhausted. How she was surprised by his apology, but didn't hold anything against him, because he was under the control of the old virus.

Then her mind changed direction. She told him how she thought he was just teasing her when he told her she looked lovely at the Brookline crime scene, and wondered why he'd said it.

Olivia's mind turned a dangerous corner. She looked over at the sleeping form of Peter Bishop. His eyes were closed and there was no movement. Olivia wondered if he had indeed slipped into unconsciousness. If he had it was her fault. Should she tell him anyway? She grabbed the searchlight and her cell phone again and checked the time. The display read 4:55AM. Five minutes, she thought.

In five minutes I am going to start moving even if I have to crawl to get there.

She took a deep breath and started talking again. Hoping that the shock of her words might catch the edge of his consciousness. Olivia told him how she had grown to admire him for saving other people's lives and for getting along better with his father. She told him she thought he was a good man despite his criminal background and shady past. She told him she was attracted to him and what she would would like to do to him and for him should they ever go out on a date. She told him that somewhere along the way she had decided that waking up in his arms some morning would not be a bad thing, but something beautiful. Her heart was beating wildly and she again checked the time.

Olivia Dunham got to a standing position with some awkwardness. Rethinking her plan she leaned down near Peter's ear. "I'm going to go get help, Peter. I'll be back as soon as I can. Hang on, Peter.

Please hang on....For us." The last two words that left her mouth shocked her. Olivia jumped up and started off in the direction of the parking lot.

Twenty minutes later, the bars went up on her cell display. Olivia pushed the button for Broyles' home line. He picked up on the second ring.

"Broyles," he blurted out sleepily annoyed.

"It's Dunham, sir. I need an ambulance immediately to the access road of Upton State Forrest off Southboro Street. Peter's been hurt!"


	6. Chapter 6

**So here it is. The final chapter of "Warmer." I would like to thank everyone who alerted, favorited, and/or reviewed this story. I really appreciate it.**

**You know I do not own anything to do with Fringe. All mistakes are mine.**

**In Chinese the word 'crisis' is spelled with the characters for 'danger' and 'opportunity.'**

Warmer-chapter 6

It was a unique opportunity to watch Olivia Dunham sleeping in the big chair next to his hospital bed.

With her head thrown back he could see the details of her face, her golden hair spread by static electricity over the fabric of the chair.

Peter Bishop was thankful to be alert again, to be able to keep his eyes open and focus. Apparently he didn't do well with whatever narcotic was in Olivia's Fiorinal. Thinking back he was shocked how in a very short time he had felt almost paralyzed from those two little pills. His mind had been sluggish but still functional, but his body. He couldn't have moved anything if his life had depended on it.

He remembered he was being dragged along the forest floor for what felt like forever, by her.

Peter was amazed she had dragged hm for such a long period of time, but he was well aware of the functional effects of the adrenal glands in times of crisis. He remembered her pressed against him, both of them lying on the cold ground, her warm breath on his neck.

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by movement and sound from the chair. He looked over to see Olivia Dunham stirring from sleep looking totally disheveled. As she stretched her arms up with her eyes still closed he could see her exposed belly button due to the big piece of fabric missing from the bottom of her blouse. The memory of the sound of fabric being torn and the cute view of her now made him smile. She had torn her shirt to help him. Peter wiggled his left leg slightly willing the returning pain to go away. The traction equipment made a little noise as a result. Peter vowed not to hit the button on the narcotic pump attatched to his IV. He was a bit shy of narcotics for now, and would gladly endure the pain to stay in control of his faculties. Especially with her here next to him.

Peter turned again to look at Olivia who was slowly opening her eyes. There was a slight smile on her face and Peter wondered what she had been dreaming about, as he frequently did. He hated to interrupt her stirrings and the entertainment value of them but he needed to find out some things.

"Good morning, Livia," Peter addressed her firmly, trying not to sound too elated.

He could tell the exact second she came to. The cute little, innocent smile disappeared and her game face was re-secured. Olivia's eyes grew wide at the site of Peter Bishop sitting up wide awake in his hospital bed with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Peter!" Olivia said a little breathless. "You're awake. How are you feeling?" She moved the awkward chair a little closer to the guard rail.

"Honestly, my left leg hurts, but it's not like it was. I have you to thank for that." He locked eyes with hers, his look intense. Peter could see the slight blush come up on her cheeks.

Olivia looked down at the floor for a second and then back up at his face.

"I know you would have done the same for me," she said breathily.

"Yes," he simply replied without hesitation. Olivia grew a little restless in the chair so Peter changed the subject, hoping by doing so it would keep her there longer. 'The plastic bag..."

"There was a class ring in with the note. One of the missing women's parents was able to identify it, so at least they got closure."

"But it didn't get us closer to Wertheimer," Peter said soberly.

"Not yet, but we'll get him." Peter decided Olivia was trying to convince herself and left the comment alone.

"Your doctor told me earlier that he thought your head was OK. That's great news, Peter. You really had me worried." The words had barely left her mouth when she found her thoughts traveling back to unresponsive Peter just hours ago. And her telling him her life story, and more juicy information to try to keep him awake. _If his head really was OK did he..._

"You took good care of me, Livia. Thank you for that. I wasn't worried at all." And Peter gave her a genuine smile. He had interrupted her mental processing. Had he heard what she'd told him? She needed to find out but not right this second. First she needed coffee.

Olivia Dunham practically jumped up from the chair, and as she did she felt a sudden draft across her abdomen. She pulled her blouse as far down as she could as she arose. The action didn't go unseen by Peter and he chuckled.

"Sorry about your shirt, Livia. I should buy you a new one."

Embarrassed, Olivia shot him a smile. "I'm going to go find a big cup of coffee. You want one?"

"Sure. If you're buying. The biggest you can find."

Olivia gave him a big smile in reply while trying to calm her unruly hair. "OK. I'll be back. You rest."

She turned to go and made it a few feet before his voice stopped her.

"Livia?"

She spun around thinking he needed something else from the cafeteria. "Yes?"

Peter took a big breath. "I heard you. While I was lying there I heard everything you said to me. I'm really sorry I couldn't respond. I wanted to. Badly. But your Fiorinal messed me up-moving was next to impossible. But I stayed awake like you told me to.

A person could have heard a pin drop in the room. Peter continued.

"After I get out of here, I think sometime we should talk..."

There was a sudden knock on the open door. "Morning, Bishop. Am I interrupting anything?"

Philip Broyles stood sharply dressed at the hospital room door. He looked first at Peter and then at the profile of Olivia Dunham near the door.

Olivia's response was Guiness record quick. "I was just going to get us some coffee. Would you like one, Sir?" She said as she moved closer to the exit.

Broyles' gut told him he had indeed interrupted something, but it was too late now. Dunham was ready to run out the door. He sighed rubbing his forehead, figuring whatever was going on they would probably get back to it later when he wasn't around. Embarrassingly,he hadn't worried when they hadn't called him back last night. He figured they had returned home separately or were busily with each other and had forgotten to check back. Maybe he was wrong about the two of them, but he didn't think so. The air always seemed charged when they were in a room together.

"Large with cream and two sugars if you can carry all that."

"No problem, Sir," Olivia smiled at her boss. Then she glanced one more time back at Peter who was looking frustrated, and she certainly knew why. "Be back soon."

The two men watched as Olivia Dunham hurried out the door. "A puzzle that woman is, " Phillip Broyles offered.

"You have _no_ idea, Sir."

Phillip Broyles chuckled and sat in the chair next to Peter's bed.

Olivia Dunham skipped the elevator and took the stairs to the cafeteria. Her heart was beating madly remembering his confession. She dropped the first coffee cup while trying to fill it. _Calm down,_ she said to herself. _You'll deal with it later._ She was successful with the next three attempts at preparing the coffees, and set out to find something to eat.


	7. Chapter 7

**A couple of you weren't happy with the way I ended this story. After thinking about it I decided to add this epilogue.**

**Sorry I didn't solve the case of the unknown substance, and catch the nefarious Nate Wertheimer. If anyone would like me to write a companion piece in which I solve the case, let me know. I could use your ideas.**

**Thanks again to everyone who alerted and/or favorited this story. It was a fun ride.**

**You know I don't own anything Fringe, except my imagination. Totally unbetaed.**

**There is a quote from episode 2.02. A cybercookie to the one who finds it!**

Warmer-Epilogue

Phillip Broyles took a minute to study the strange young man in the bed, as he pushed the chair a bit away from the bed rail. The significance of the chair jammed against the side of the bed did not escape him and Broyles worked hard to keep back the grin by coughing.

Peter Bishop looked less harmful than his FBI file implied, lying in a hospital bed wearing a johnnie, his leg secured by high-tech traction gadgetry. If Brolyes wasn't mistaken he was in pain, although his face didn't seem to reflect it. Curiosity won out, and he had to ask.

"Does it hurt?" Broyles asked, a sincere look on his face.

Peter Bishop shrugged. "A bit," he offered, nonplussed. "But it's better than being drugged."

Phillip decided if Dunham was sitting closely next to him he wouldn't want to be drugged either.

Broyles also understood from talking with his doctor that Peter had had a bad reaction to butalbital, the narcotic Olivia had innocently offered Bishop in the field. Broyles stared at Peter for a moment wondering if he had been awake or asleep for those hours in the forest, and what had transpired besides the fact that his 120 pound female agent dragged his 180 pound conman/homeland consultant for 2 hours and a distance of 2 miles. If that didn't smell like love he didn't know what did.

Broyles filed his thoughts away and smiled at the younger, less crazy Bishop.

"Your doctor says they're just keeping you tonight because of the mild concussion. If everything's status quo tomorrow, you can go home. That will make your father happy. He's called me several times today already since he got the news. I'm surprised he's not here."

Peter gave a tired little laugh. "Astrid's with him at the house. Apparently he didn't sleep well last night since he couldn't reach Olivia or me."

Broyles nodded, hating to turn this into a business session. He took a breath.

"We're no closer right now to finding Wertheimer. Six bodies accounted for, who knows how many are still out there, and an unknown substance that doesn't show up in any database in the world. Do you think after your father gets some rest you could talk him into re-examining the compound? You, of course, can take as many days as you need off your feet."

Peter rubbed at his forehead. "Yeah. Sure. I'll talk to him." Peter Bishop paused, thinking. "Do you really think this guy is also the 'Metro-West Serial Killer'?"

Broyles raised his eyebrows. "At this point I don't know what I think. I just know I've got both Washington and Massachusetts officials breathing down my back for answers."

Peter shook his head in understanding. He made a mental note to work from home, and read up on both the FBI's Wertheimer and 'Metro-West Serial Killer' files.

***

Olivia Dunham pulled the SUV up to the attractive Victorian house that Peter Bishop and his father called home. She killed the engine, opened her door, and walked around to the passenger side to help Peter get out.

Peter had already opened the passenger side door and was eager to show Olivia that he could function despite his physical state and the crutches that he would now need for the weeks ahead.

He got himself on his feet and gave her an 'I told you so' smile, as he hobbled away from the vehicle. Peter got up the curb on the first try and headed toward the stone stairs while Olivia carried his single bag, easily catching up with him. Instantly Peter had a new-found respect for Olivia recalling how she had been after her accident.

"Here. Hold onto my arm," Olivia offered.

"I don't need to. Really, I've got it," Peter replied. "I can do this myself," he said somewhat defensively.

"And you're really not good at letting other people help you," Olivia said calmly.

Peter realized instantly where he had heard those words before. "Touche, Dunham," he said stopping to look at her. Then he returned his concentration to navigating the stairs.

Minutes later he reached the top to find Walter smiling at the two of them.

"Peter! So good to have you home! I'm giving you my bed on the first floor so you don't have to use the stairs all the time...And don't argue with me about it, son." Walter patted his son on the back and moved out of the way, further retreating inside. "Thank you for bringing my boy home. Olivia."

Olivia smiled at the elder Bishop noting how happy he was. "You're welcome, Walter." She followed the Bishop men into the house to make sure Peter got situated alright.

"Come, come sit down on the sofa. You must be exhausted from going up the stairs. I must return to the laundry on the second floor, but I'll be back to make lunch. You _will _stay for lunch, won't you, Agent Dunham?"

Olivia snickered at his use of her professional name. "I'll think about it, Walter."

Walter Bishop padded excitedly up the staircase and vanished. The sound of running water could be heard.

Peter Bishop tried to get comfortable on the sofa with his leg propped up on an ottoman. He wanted to hurry up and get through the recovery phase, and despite what she thought he wanted a certain blonde FBI agent to help him. He paid attention as Olivia sat down on the sofa several inches away from him. He knew he at least owed her a thank you for all she'd done for him in the last few days. Peter wanted to spill his feelings to her like she had to him, but he didn't think he could. At least not right now. A thank you was a start.

"Olivia. I just want to thank you for all you did for me out there in the forest. I-"

"Peter. You don't need to thank me. I know that if our roles had been reversed you would have moved me too." There was an awkward pause as they both looked toward the stairs for any sign of a returning Walter.

Peter moved his leg to find a more comfortable spot and the wheeled ottoman moved several inches away. Both of them reached out to retrieve it and found their faces close together. Without thinking Peter closed the distance and kissed her.

It took Olivia Dunham a second or two to respond. When she did they pulled up still joined at the mouth, his hands in her hair. She brazenly turned and moved so that she was sitting on her knees leaning into him.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, but when she opened her lips to him Peter responded and they both felt warmer throughtout from head to toe. When it ended they separated and she turned to sit properly as Peter threaded his arm around her shoulder.

Peter Bishop smiled brilliantly for the first time in days. "You'll stay for lunch then?"

Olivia Dunham smiled back. "I'll stay for lunch."

Peter's smile broadened at her reply. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV surfing for a suitable channel. They both stared at the TV lost in thought.

Several moments went by and then Peter Bishop spoke. "So, when are we going on that date?"

The End


End file.
